


hide your fires

by clytemnestras



Series: Fem Feb 2020 [7]
Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Season/Series 02
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:01:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22959100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clytemnestras/pseuds/clytemnestras
Summary: This is a play and we're both chewing the scenery.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Series: Fem Feb 2020 [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1636480
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	hide your fires

**Author's Note:**

  * For [happyg_rl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/happyg_rl/gifts).



> For a prompt at an oooold ficathon:
> 
> hurricanes and tidal waves and all the rest
> 
> Yet here you are the eye of my storm
> 
> Come to kill me at lastly

She's starting to get it, why her high school English teacher kept the word  _ HAMARTIA _ capitalised and underlined and circled around in thick swathes of chalk. How unpleasantly obvious it was she could only muster a fuck to give about Shakespeare when Lady Macbeth strode across the page, blood-hungry and wicked.

It's easy, is the thing, to lie beside Hugo and feel her own blood quivering beneath the surface, and feel like this is all under control.

Like - _ I've masturbated to you _ , how uncouth that seemed, like it was more intimate than wearing her colour and smell and tearing her home apart because that's what her fucking  _ head  _ felt like, demolished by someone else's touch. And what has she done now? Fucked her, fucked her through someone else, holding him down beneath her with Villanelle's voice in her ear, delighted and powerless at once. Given her something to work with, as intimate as the scar from the knife in her guts. 

Hell, it's not like she's ever been someone's muse before.

Soaked in her own sweat, nerves still humming to the sounds of Villanelle's shallow breath she's not thinking about Nico, or Hugo, or fucking  _ Carolyn _ . She's thinking about Lady Macbeth never being able to wash her hands clean. She thought that was so  _ weak _ when she was fourteen, another casualty to female fucking hysteria, the man gets a war-wound to compliment his madness and the woman shrieks herself off into that good night.

_ We're going to kill each other _ , she thinks, or breathes quietly into the pillow.

The breathing evens out in her ear, fainter and pointedly back under control. "God, don't you feel so alive right now?" She whispers, and Eve can tease out the smile fitted around the words, sly and sharp as anything.  _ This is a play and we're both chewing the scenery _ .

"Fucking hamartia," she mutters back, forcing her eyes to close.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm on tumblr! [@bohemicns](http://www.bohemicns.tumblr.com), let's chat!


End file.
